Light up the Sky
by FemL
Summary: "Do not misconstrue silence as safety, Black," she warned, continuing her fruitless attempt to stop the pus still pouring from her nose with her hand. "There's an explosion inside of me." SiriusxOC JPxLE
1. Chapter O1: Goop and Glasses

**Disclaimer:** This will be the only time I do this. I do not own Harry Potter.

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**Chapter O1:  
Green Goop and Broken Glasses**

Margo Wilder, squinting at the blurry outline of her busted glasses, wondered whether her mother was beginning to worry about the number of glasses she went through every school year. She was running out of excuses and _Oculus Reparo_ could only repair so much damage. And 'so much damage' stopped short of _Confringo_. Violent explosions tended to leave little left to repair, unfortunately. Margo exhaled sharply, pushing off the ground with the heels of her hands, and reached for her bag. She was going to be late for Potions, judging by the lack of students in the corridors, and briefly contemplated skipping before giving a soft laugh. She was a Hufflepuff, not a Gryffindor, and Hufflepuffs did not skip class. Anyway, she couldn't afford to miss class. This was the year for O.W.L.s and if she wanted to do anything in the wizarding world, she couldn't screw up.

Footsteps hurried, Margo practically ran down the stairs to the dungeons. She knew Professor Slughorn was usually lenient, but she did not want to abuse his obnoxious geniality. As she ran, Margo quickly patched up the holes in her robes from this morning's abuse with a _Reparo_ then stowed her wand in her boot absentmindedly. She idly wished that the Slytherins would limit their harassment to Gryffindors. But she shooed the thought away almost immediately, disappointed that she would even think of such a thing, and stopped her mad dash in front of the Potions classroom. After a quick, calming breath and a nervous hand through hair, Margo braved to enter the room.

"Good of you to finally join us, Miss Wilder," Slughorn said, looking distinctly disappointed in her late arrival. "Please take a seat. Ah, there's is one next to Mr. Lupin."

Margo dimly bobbed her head and hastily looked around for Remus in the back rows, cursing mentally when she realized that the Marauders had decided to sit front-and-center today. Head tucked securely between her shoulders in a mixture of shame and aggravation, Margo scurried over to her partner.

"Hullo," Remus Lupin greeted pleasantly, giving what Margo suspected to be a smile. Although, at this close proximity, he could straight up turn into a toad and she wouldn't be able to tell. Lowering her shoulders a bit, Margo returned the gesture politely before digging through her bag for her Potions textbook and notebook. She wilted when she discovered the course book practically soaked through with water, evidenced by her now unpleasantly wet hand. She had forgotten that she had used it earlier when defending herself against an _Aqua Eructo_ spell. Cursing the Slytherins and letting out an tired sigh, Margo turned to Remus sheepishly.

"Erm...excuse me," Margo attempted to interrupt, but Remus was deep in conversation with Sirius Black and James Potter. Forgoing any further efforts to disrupt their conversation, she squinted across the table at his notes. Luckily, they were far enough away for her to read successfully.

Apparently, they were brewing a Draught of Peace. Margo frowned, aware of how tricky the potion could be, but reaching for the powdered moonstone nonetheless. Surely some effort was better than nothing at all, right?

It took her nearly twice as long to do anything without her glasses and everything was twice as embarrassing. Every time she wanted to see what she was doing, she had to bob her head back and forth, as if she was a camera lens trying to get the right focus. Even then, with the thing in the perfect place, she had to squint her eyes hard to make out the details. The laughing only made it worse. Margo was determined to ignore it though, until Sirius Black, seated at the table in front of hers, decided to comment.

"Having trouble there, Wilder?"

Margo's eyes snapped up to his face, which she was sure was as agonizingly handsome as always, and the frown which had been on her face since the beginning of Potions, deepened. "Not at all, Black. Thanks for asking," Margo replied, voice strained in her endeavor to ignore the slight. Or at least she assumed it was a slight, going by the arrogance in his words. Of course, Sirius Black always seemed to be like that.

"Really? Because you just put in powdered unicorn horn instead of powdered porcupine quills." There was a little concern in his voice now. James and Remus looked worriedly at her cauldron.

"What? Oh Merlin's beard!" Margo exclaimed, color draining from her face and shaky fingers entangling themselves in the roots of her hair roughly. She squinted at the noxiously green color of her potion and wondered why she hadn't noticed before. "Professor Slug-" She was cut off by the explosion of green slime that originated from her cauldron. "-horn." Margo finished, wiping the sticky substance from her lips. "Oh please tell me that the green goop on you three is just my imagination and that I haven't just soiled the most popular people in my year."

The way that they wiped their faces in a disgusted manner made it clear that she had, actually, just done what she'd feared. "Oh Merlin's saggy left bollock. Of course it's not my imagination." She heard several girlish gasps and suspected several raised eyebrows at her foul language. She had even surprised herself.

Professor Slughorn, who had managed to avoid the goop [fortunately, it had a relatively small radius], gave a weak laugh. "Well, Miss Wilder, I have certainly never seen a botched Draught of Peace do that before."

"I'm sorry," Margo managed to say, suddenly feeling uncomfortably warm. "I'm going to go clean myself off now. Is that okay, Professor?" She asked, but was already fleeing the classroom and out the door by the time he managed a shocked 'of course, Miss Wilder'.

Margo arrived at the Hufflepuff Basement with astounding speed and after tapping out "Helga Hufflepuff" onto the second row's middle barrel, was out of her robes and in the showers just as fast. And boy, Margo Wilder was never so glad of hot running water. It didn't take very long to wash the green goop that was her mistake out of her shaggy, cropped strawberry blonde hair, but Margo remained in the shower for awhile longer simply because it helped her relax. It was only when she heard voices drifting in from the Fifth Year dorms did remove herself from the shower. Snatching up a soft yellow-and-black striped towel from the hook outside the shower curtain, Margo slowly dried herself. She was delaying the inevitable. She knew that she should just go out there and face what she had to face but Margo had never been the particularly brave sort. And, hell, it was so much easier to run from your problems than to face them. But she couldn't hide in the bathroom forever, and once she donned the Hufflepuff-themed pajamas, she crept out into the girls dorm room.

And just as Margo had expected, on her bed sat Greta Catchlove, in all her sweet-faced glory. Greta, large baby blue eyes shining with an absurd amount of sympathy, smiled at Margo. "I heard you slimed the Marauders in Potions class today."

"Did I? I can't seem to remember," Margo lied halfheartedly, shuffling over to her bed and collapsing onto it, face down, beside Greta. "Oh Merlin, Greta. I've really made a mess of things, haven't I?" Margo murmured, words muffled by the comforter.

"You _did_ manage to get the rest of today's Potion classes cancelled, with the mess you made. Apparently, your goop is particularly hard to clean once it hardens," Greta chuckled, stroking Margo's head in an attempt to comfort her. "What happened?"

"I added powdered _unicorn horn_ instead of powdered _porcupine quill_," Margo admitted, rolling onto her back and looking at the ceiling.

"Why? You're usually great at Potions, Marge. You're literally the only reason I passed Potions last year!" Greta said, brow furrowing as she inspected her friend. Margo remained silent, staring stubbornly upward and avoiding Greta's gaze.

"Margo." No reply.

"Margo Wilder, answer me." Margo's jaw had fixed, now, and her hazel eyes remained glued to the ceiling.

"Margaret bloody Wilder, answer me this instant or so help me Merlin, I will never help you in Charms again!" Greta's voice seemed incapable of getting particularly loud, but her words held enough impact that Margo crumbled.

"My glasses broke," Margo explained vaguely, but she continued once spying Greta's raised eyebrow. "Alright, my glasses _exploded_. It seems Slytherins aren't fond of them. They aren't fond of Mudbloods, either apparently."

"Oh Margo." Greta's puny anger seemed to melt. "They're bastards, you know. Stuck to blood purity like bowtruckles on poxy eggs, I say. If they're bullying you, just hex them back! Go tell Professor Sprout! She won't allow someone to be discriminated against."

"Oi, Greta, s'okay," Margo said, in an effort to soothe her friend, who had a tendency to get overly concerned with other people's problems. "It's not that big of a deal. Merlin, Snape gets bullied by Potter and Black all the time and he's not running to Slughorn, is he? Anyway, I'd rather not get expelled just because some snot-nosed Slytherin runs to his daddy."

Greta huffed, clearly not happy with Margo's reasoning, but knowing not to argue the point further. Greta knew Margo wouldn't change her mind about this. "Do you want to raid the kitchens then?" Great offered, cheeks dimpling as her full lips stretched into a smile.

Margo grinned, a lop-sided, crooked thing, in return. "How else would I comfort myself about today without some hot chocolate and pie, Greta? But first, I need your eyes so I can write a letter to my mum. I really need some new glasses. Can't go destroying the Potions room _every day_, else someone might start to think I'm doing it on _purpose_."

"Not to mention you'd get kicked out of Slug Club," Greta chirped, giggling wildly as Margo pulled a face.

"Okay, maybe the glasses can wait," Margo joked, pulling a piece of parchment paper and a quill from her bag. "Let's write my mum, Greta."

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Well, that's the first chapter of my first Harry Potter story! Hope you folks enjoyed. Reviews are the best thing in the world to me and very much make my day, so please take the time to review if you enjoyed [or if you didn't.] Next chapter will be up soon, hopefully! Thanks for reading!

See you all soon,

Em


	2. Chapter O2: A Letter and A Broken Nose

**Chapter O2:**

A Letter to Mum and a Broken Nose

It was not particularly odd to find Margo Wilder in the kitchens past curfew. Nor was it odd for her to enjoy a fresh mug of hot chocolate [with whip cream and cinnamon on the top] and a piece of pie on those distinctly difficult days. It was, however, a bit strange for Greta Catchlove to join Margo in her curfew-breaking kitchen raids, as the blonde was less prone to breaking the rules. But tonight they had a letter to write and Margo Wilder, was, unfortunately, blind as a bat without her glasses.

"We should have done this earlier!" Margo groaned in exasperation, head landing with a loud _thunk_ as it fell against the wood of their table. "The owls have already been sent out!"

"I'm so sorry I had _class_ like the rest of the school, Marge," Greta shot back, the insult implied being lost by her sweet voice. "We can't all skip class. Some of us are Prefects and have responsibility." The letter writing planned earlier that been cancelled due to the fact that Greta remembered that she had Charms class and had hurried out of the dorms faster than a mouse ran for cheese.

Margo snorted loudly, lifting her head [forehead now a bright red] from the table and talking a good, long drink from her mug. "I know, I know. Speaking of which, do you have the Astronomy notes? I don't want to miss anything important."

Greta gave her a pointed look and nodded, light blonde hair bobbed prettily with the movement. "I also have the _Charms_ notes. You know, the ones you should be worrying about."

Margo pulled at face at the mention of Charms class. It was one of few classes that Hufflepuff shared with Slytherin and Margo avoided it like the plague. Margo was decent enough at Charms and enjoyed the subject matter but it was strangely hard to focus when she knew there were people in there that cursed her _existence._ "Astronomy is more interesting than Charms," was Margo's feeble retort.

Greta's blue eyes studied her friend with amusement. "Sometimes I wonder how I can be friends with someone who likes _Astronomy_ more than _Charms_. Especially when Charms is my favorite class!"

"Because you are the most understanding girl in the world, Greta Catchlove," Margo explained, grinning lopsidedly at her friend. "And you have great penmanship, which should be used to write your best friend's letter to her mum, so she can see again."

Greta rolled her eyes, dimples dotting her cheeks as she smiled. "Alright, let's do this. May I ask your mum if I can visit over the holidays?" She asked, looking up from the parchment.

"You know her answer already, Greta," Margo said, cheeks full of apple pie. "She loves you more than her own daughter."

"That's a load of bloody bollocks Margo and you know it," Greta chided playfully, taking a sip of her hot chocolate and humming in delight.

"Did I tell you I said 'Merlin's saggy left bollock' after my potion exploded?" Margo asked, in response to her friend's foul language. Greta nearly did a spit-take.

"You what?!" Greta shouted, causing the house-elves working around them to glance over worriedly. "Merlin's beard! I didn't know you had it in you!"

Margo laughed at her friend's reaction. "Neither did I. I figured all my good sense went out the window after I slimed the Marauders," Margo said, giving a small, sheepish smile. "Do you think they'll kill me, Greta? I mean, I did slime James Potter in front of Lily Evans. And he's fancied her since First Year."

"Hex you till the magic in their wands runs out, maybe, but kill you?" Greta paused, feigning thought. "No, silly, not at all. Maybe if you were a Slytherin."

"Okay." Margo gave a sharp exhale. "Okay. Thank Merlin for being a Hufflepuff."

"What do you want me to say to your mum about how your glasses broke?" Greta asked, a small crease forming between her brows.

"Erm...tell her a hippogriff ate them," Margo offered, taking another swig of hot chocolate.

"Does she even know what a hippogriff is?" Greta asked, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear.

"Nope, I'm sure she'll ask about it over holiday though," Margo promised, smiling at the thought of the Christmas holiday. "She always asks."

The conversation flagged as Greta scrawled out the last few lines of the letter. "Done!" Greta cheered, as she finished signing their names. "Want me to run this to the owlery?"

"Nah, I'm planning on heading to the Astronomy Tower later tonight so I'll get it," Margo assured her, smiling when her friend scrunched her nose. "Jupiter's at Opposition and it's the best time to study it's moons! I know for a fact that the professor will test over that."

"If it were important enough to break curfew, I'm sure she'd have taken the entire class up there tonight," Greta said, looking at her over-eager friend. "Anyway, how can you even see that without your glasses?"

"I'm farsighted, Greta," Margo reminded the blonde. "So while I can't even tell your mouth from the rest of your face, I can always see the stars."

"I hope you have fun, Marge. I'm going to go to bed, though." Greta was already at the portrait hole. "Don't fall asleep up there again, okay?" Greta's soft laughter could be heard even after she had left the kitchens.

"Okay!" Margo called after her, chuckling softly at her friend's motherly nature. The laughter quickly faded once the portrait swung shut, however and Margo's face fell into indifference. She breathed out softly, blinking herself out of a stupor before swinging her legs gracelessly off the bench. "Thanks for the food, you lot," Margo called over her shoulder as she cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself.

Checking to make sure that the spell had worked, Margo left the kitchens. It was creepily dark in the corridors of Hogwarts at night, despite the warmth that always seemed to fill the air during the day. Margo had always believed it to be because the building slept alongside its residents, but she really did not know and was worried that she would look too 'Muggle-born' if she asked. She searched the dark for any other wanderers [especially Filch] with narrowed hazel-green eyes as she strolled down the halls. Typically, Margo was lucky enough to avoid Filch as well as the Prefects on their nightly rounds but she never allowed herself to be complacent with this particular thing. Detention meant no more nighttime visits to the Astronomy Tower or to the kitchens and Margo was worried she might go mad without them.

Margo was halfway to the Astronomy Tower when hushed voices reached her ears. She froze, both ready to piss herself in fear and itching with insane curiosity over who it could be. Filch did not bother to whisper on his patrols and neither did the Prefects. Quiet footsteps could be heard coming down the hall, but when Margo glanced around to see who it was, there was no one there. _A Disillusionment Charm? Or an Invisibility Spell? _She wondered, drawing her wand from her bathrobe's pocket and whispering a quick '_Aparecium_' in an attempt to discover who it was. She frowned when nothing happened. Had it worked? The hairs on her neck stood on end as the whispering suddenly stopped and the Revealing Charm forced her into visibility. Margo paled, searching the darkness for the perpetrator.

"This isn't funny whoever you are!" She whispered angrily, desperately trying to keep the fear from her voice. A quiet '_Silencio_' broke the blanket of silence and Margo gave a silent scream and jerked in blind panic when she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. Dropping her wand, Margo swung wildly with a closed fist behind her, panicking when her hand hit something solid. A deep and surprised shout sounded from the partially invisible person. Margo, to busy silently shouting obscenities, did not notice it when the offender completely revealed himself.

"Who in their bloody right mind drops their wand when they're attacked?" Sirius Black demanded, prodding his now bleeding nose gently. "Merlin's beard Prongs, stop laughing!"

James Potter, laughing wildly at his friend's bloody nose, stepped out from behind one of the tapestries. Margo, cradling one probably broken hand in the other, blinked at the pair and paled before reaching for her forgotten wand with her remaining good hand.

"It's so brilliantly hilarious though, Padfoot!" James exclaimed, still laughing with a large grin on his face. "Sirius Black, best Beater in Griffydor, got his nose broken by a Hufflepuff! Look at her, Padfoot. She's half your size!"

Margo frowned at the strange situation, squinting hard in order to be able to make out their faces at this distance and in this light. She waved her arm to get James's attention in vain, before making the tough decision to throw her slipper at him. They already hated her for sliming them in Potions class, certainly a slipper in the face wouldn't be too much salt in the wound, right? They did silence her and nearly scare her to death, so Margo rationalized that they were nearly even.

James Potter's laughter stopped when Sirius Black's began, which was around the same time Margo's fluffy yellow-and-black slipper collided with Potter's face. Margo, now commanding Potter's full attention, tapped her throat with urgency. While James busied himself with undoing his jinx on Margo, Sirius busied himself with getting back at James.

"Oi, Prongs, that's one for the books, isn't it?" Sirius managed to say, between distinctly bark-like bouts of laughter. "James Potter, hit in the face with a Hufflepuff's slipper. How good's her arm, Prongs?"

"Shut it, Padfoot," James grumbled to his friend, a somehow good-natured frown creasing his face. "Brilliant arm you got there, Wilder."

It seemed as soon as Margo Wilder got her voice back, she lost her spine. "Erm...Sorry about that, Potter, you seemed to have forgotten that you'd silenced me. But, uh, thanks, I suppose," she responded hesitantly, moving to scratch her arm awkwardly with her good hand but jabbing herself with her wand instead. "Ouch! Oh, right," she said, suddenly remembering the throb in her hand and the blood on Black's face. A wand tap and a whispered '_Episkey_' and Margo could use her hand again. She flexed her fingers gratefully before looking at Sirius. "I can fix that for you, if you want, that is. I promise it won't look any different from before I broke it."

Sirius looked down at her, eyebrow arched in question. He had gotten up off the ground while she hadn't been looking and was currently brushing off his robes. Margo made a mental note that the two Gryffindors weren't in their pajamas. The silence made her antsy. "Oh, I think Padfoot could use a little roughing up, Wilder." Thank Merlin for Potter's inability to stay silent. Margo relaxed a little.

"Oi, Prongs, your jealously is showing," Sirius retorted, grinning wide at James. "We all know that you're just upset that your hair always look like a Cornish Pixie attacked it."

"Brilliant Padfoot, really brilliant," James shot back sarcastically, returning his friend's grin. "I think you're losing your touch."

Margo cleared her throat, swallowing hard when the air grew still again. She walked over to Sirius, after a smile from James, and tapped his crooked nose with the tip of her wand. "Episkey." Sirius shouted in surprise at the sudden rush of pain as his nose cracked back into place and healed.

"You didn't mention that part, Wilder," Sirius said, looking at her with cool grey eyes as he rubbed his fixed nose. Margo, even in her half-blind state, could see the casual elegance that practically emanated from around Sirius. In all honesty, it was extremely intimidating.

"Ah, Sorry. I thought you knew, with how much you go to the Hospital Wing," Margo replied honestly, distinctly uncomfortable around Sirius Black. "If you don't mind me asking, why aren't you two trying to hex me 'til your wands run out of magic?"

James raised an eyebrow. "For what? The explosion in Potions?" He laughed, amiably. "Are you kidding? We got out of Potions because of that."

It was Margo's turn to raise an eyebrow, be it more surprised than Potter's had been. "Really? Thank Merlin. You guys are frightening as a Dementor's kiss when you're angry." Margo let out a sigh of relief, returning James' grin with a small smile before frowning in realization. "Wait, then why in world did you two decide to scare me half to death?"

"Ah, we were just yanking your wand," James grinned, mischief gleaming in his excitable green eyes. "More importantly, what is a _Hufflepuff_ doing out past curfew?"

"Are you a Prefect now, Potter?" Margo quipped, slightly taken aback by the question.

"He wishes," Sirius chuckled, causing Margo to look at him in surprise. Sirius Black wasn't all that daunting when he joked around. Unfortunately, his looks still made Margo feel like she'd been a victim of the Jelly-Legs Jinx. Fortunately, everything was so damn blurry without her glasses so she wasn't quite turning to Jell-o. Margo briefly wondered why Potter would want to be a Prefect then she remembered Lily Evans and laughed. "She's a dead case, Prongs, I swear."

"Oi, Padfoot, bugger off it," James responded, maintaining his grin. "She'll fall for me, eventually."

Margo chuckled softly at his determination. From what she'd heard so far, it really was a dead case but she supposed his resolve was admirable. That's got to count for something. "Merlin's beard!" Margo exclaimed, remembering exactly why she had been out past curfew. "I'm going to bloody miss it! Um, it was great meeting you guys and all but I gotta go," Margo said hurriedly, backing away from them and giving a small wave before turning on her heel and making a mad dash for the Astronomy Tower.

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...I realize I just posted chapter one a few hours ago but I felt the need to go ahead and post this chapter, seeing as the last had so little Sirius Black in it. I hope everyone is in character and that you guys find Margo interesting so far. I'm really looking forward to writing the rest of this story and I hope you guys are looking forward to it! Thanks for reading and please leave a review! Also, another question - do you guys like the chapter names in the beginning or should I just do away with them? Thanks in advance!

See you guys again soon,

Em


	3. Chapter O3: Bad Hair Days and Presents

**Chapter O3**

Of Bad Hair days and Unexpected Presents

Despite her friend's warning, Margo found herself victim to a rude awakening when dawn broke. Hazel-green eyes flashing open in panic, she cried out when Filch snagged her ear in bony fingers, effectively ridding her body of even the thought of sleep. He inspected her through narrowed lids with a perverse sense of happiness. "Thought you could sneak around me, eh? They always think they can sneak around me...they never can, Mrs. Norris always finds them. Bet you'll think twice about breaking curfew again..." It was then that the Caretaker's rambling lost Margo's attention completely. She found the crusty dragons in his nose much more interesting [and disgusting] to look at.

Margo resisted the urge to scrunch her nose at the smell of Flich's breath, as he droned on and on in a painfully close proximity to her sniffer. Filch's skeletal fingers had moved away from her ear, thank Merlin, but Margo was only just a bit happier with his iron grip on her wrist. Filch was anything but gentle as he dragged her from the cold air of the Astronomy Tower and down the spiraling stairs. It was when they reached the corridors, warm with bodies, that the urge to run swelled in Margo. Try as she might to forget that she was still in her pajamas, or that the hall was full of students, or that she knew how horrible she must look, Margo simply couldn't. It certainly didn't help that her cheeks were growing warmer by the second. Or that the last time she had confronted these people, it had been in Potions class, covered in botched Draught of Peace.

She found herself wishing strongly for a hole to crawl into. Why were there never holes around when she needed them?

Her hazel eyes went wide when she spotted Greta, happily chatting with Bertram Aubrey [a relatively attractive dark-haired Ravenclaw], probably on their way to breakfast. _Oh Merlin, why?_ Margo wondered silently, praying that the couple did not notice her. Unfortunately, luck was not on her side today. Greta's pretty smile faded when her blue eyes found Margo's panic-stricken, and mortified face. Her brows furrowed, creasing in the middle, and her full lips turned down in disappointment. Margo, in an attempt to relieve the bad mood she had set upon her friend, gave a small, lopsided smile and mouthed 'Sorry'. Greta shook her head, giving a very small, amused smile in response before returning her attention back to Aubrey. Margo smiled at the back of her friend's retreating form, before reality hit like a brick to the face again.

Filch had dragged her halfway to the greenhouses by now, and a cold rush of wintery air battered against them as he pulled her out of the castle and into the courtyard. The cold bit harshly at Margo, her pajamas not offering enough to stave off the cold nip in the air. One-handedly, Margo pulled her robes tighter around herself. A worried frown had taken up residence on Margo's face and her thick reddish-brown eyebrows were thoroughly knitted together. The frown deepened further when she spotted James Potter peeking out from behind one of the columns in the courtyard, much like a spy in one of those James Bond novels.

She resisted the urge to snort at his utter ridiculousness. He did not seem to notice her stare, however, as Sirius [who was also poking his head out but in a less serious manner] began to laugh at him. Their whispers deteriorated into a playful argument and Margo coughed to cover her laughter. Filch back at her with venomous eyes. "...You find this funny, eh? You rotten little students always seem to find getting into trouble funny, nowadays...Horrible brats..."

Ignoring Filch's rants again, Margo stole one more peek at the troublemakers, frown returning. She doubted they knew her first name. She was probably just 'Girl-who-broke-Black's-nose-and-threw-her-slipper-at-Potter' Wilder to them. Margo resisted the urge to shrug [to avoid further suspicion from Filch] in forced indifference. _It was fun while it lasted_. Margo made a face at the word 'fun'. _It was _interesting_ while it lasted, at least._ She mentally corrected, thinking exactly how crazy yesterday was. Her brief time with the Marauders would be one of those stories she told her kids after James and Sirius had gone and made themselves great wizards. Margo gave a slight chuckle at the thought before frowning at the thought of kids.

Fortunately, Margo had little time to dwell on the eventual possibility of carrying a child, as they had arrived at the greenhouses. A mix of worry, shame and despondency hit Margo in the gut like a truck, instantly making her nauseous. It only got worse when Professor Sprout, her curly mass of hair sticking out from beneath her sprout-like hat crazily, exited one of the greenhouses, as if on cue. Margo's head disappeared between her shoulders and she vaguely resembled a turtle going into its shell.

Filch gave a smug grin. "Pomona, I've brought you a troublemaker."

Professor Sprout, not one to disregard hospitality, gave a polite smile to Filch. "Good morning to you too, Argus," Pomona replied, green gaze slowly moving to inspect said 'troublemaker'. Her eyebrows practically disappeared into her hairline when she spotted Margo. "Oh, hullo there, Miss Wilder. Argus, what did Miss Wilder do?"

"Found 'er in the Astronomy Tower. That area's out o' bounds. She's probably been up there all night, too," Filch supplied happily. Margo was vaguely reminded of a dog, overeager for a treat.

"Ah, very well. Thank you for bringing her to me, Argus. You may return to your rounds now," Pomona said, giving a small smile to the both of them. "I'll take care of her."

Filch seemed displeased with the dismissal, probably because he would miss the punishment, but dipped his head in goodbye and left anyway. Margo, head still planted firmly between her shoulders, looked up at Professor Sprout with wide eyes.

"You may remove your head from your shoulders, Miss Wilder," Professor Sprout said, a small amount of amusement leaking out from behind her tough visage. "I am going to go on faith in our House and the fact that this is you first time offense that you were doing nothing of a mischievous nature up in the Astronomy Tower last night. Am I correct to believe in this?"

Margo, forcing her spine straight and her shoulders down, looked hesitantly at Professor Sprout's face. "Yes, Professor. I was just using the telescope - Jupiter was at Opposition, you see, and th-"

"Shh. I trust you well enough, Miss Wilder. You _are_ a Hufflepuff," Professor Sprout gave a small smile. "However! It would be showing favoritism to not punish you properly. Five points from Hufflepuff -" the very words seemed to hurt her. "- and a day of detention for breaking curfew and for knowingly venturing into an off limits area."

Margo Wilder very nearly sighed at the word 'detention', but held it in. She knew that she was getting off easy. "I'm sorry, Professor." She meant it honestly. Margo really could not stand letting people [especially important people] down. It made her feel absolutely horrible.

"Just make sure it does not happen again, Miss Wilder," she replied, moving to pat Margo on the shoulder but refraining upon remembering that her hands were covered in dirt. "Also, I expect you in class later today. I understand that you skipped yesterday, but we're learning about Mandrakes today and you certainly do not want to miss that."

Pomona Sprout's face always seemed to light up at the mention of anything related to Herbology. Margo smiled, a little sheepishly. "Yes, Professor. I'll be there."

"Good-bye then, Miss Wilder. I would hate for you to be miss breakfast." With that, the older witch headed back inside her precious greenhouses. Margo took that as a cue to leave and hurried away, pulling her wand from her robe pocket. Focusing hard on her uniform, Margo swished her wand and whispered a quick _'Accio __vestitus'_, grinning wildly as her clothes came flying into her arms. Ducking hurriedly into the first girls' bathroom she found, Margo stripped her pajamas off hastily in one of the stalls, donning her uniform just as fast. Casting a shrinking charm on her pajamas with a swift '_Reducio_', Margo stored them in her pocket before rushing out the doors and down the corridors to the Great Hall.

As she scampered into the hall, she ran a quick hand through her hair, cursing herself for forgetting to fix it in the bathroom. Margo glanced around for Greta at the Hufflepuff table, smiling wide when she spied her friend and heading over to her. Greta was engaged in a casual conversation with another Hufflepuff, but turned to Margo with a smile when she spotted the other girl. Greta paled, however, when her big blue eyes wandered up to Margo's hair.

"Oh Merlin, Margo. Haven't you looked in mirror today?" Greta asked, digging frantically in her bag for a hairbrush.

"No," Margo began, eyebrow raised at her friend's frenzied behavior. "My hair's doing something crazy again, isn't it." It wasn't a question. "A brush won't do any good, Greta. You know that."

"It'll do something, Margo! You look like someone cast a Ventus jinx on you!" Greta explained, smiling in success as her hand connected with her brush. "I don't know why you cut your hair off when you knew it would do this."

"I thought less hair would be less work," Margo explained distantly, eyes being drawn to the owl in front of her. It was blurry, but Margo could tell it was her very own owl. She reached for the package it had dropped off and it flew off.

Greta, temporarily derailed from fixing Margo's wild hair, leaned over and read the address. "It's from your mum. I guess she got the letter after all."

Margo frowned [that seemed to be an increasingly common thing in the last 24 hours] at her statement. "Greta, I never got to the Owlery last night."

"Maybe your mum's a psychic," Greta joked, chuckling lightly at the suggestion.

Margo tore open the package with a strange vigor, ignoring the letter attached in favor of sight. She put the bulky-framed glasses on with a happy sigh, grinning lopsidedly as Greta's face once again became clear. "Oh, that's heavenly," Margo breathed, before tearing open the letter and scanning it quickly.

It was all fine and dandy until she hit the line '_Oh, and make sure you tell that nice boy 'thank you'!'_ "What boy?" Greta inquired, head mere centimeters from Margo's as she read the letter alongside her friend.

Margo's mind went into overdrive. The only people that had known she was wandering the halls last night were Greta, Potter and Black. And Greta certainly wasn't a dude, if Margo went off of bust size. That left Potter and Black. And Margo had no idea why they would bother to deliver her letter. Nibbling her bottom lip absentmindedly, Margo shrugged in response to her friend's question. "I dunno, Greta. Sometimes I think my mum's lost it." Surely a small lie wouldn't hurt. She didn't want to rat out the people that ensured the return of her good vision. Margo glanced over at the Gryffindor table, contemplating thanking them but cowarding out once she saw the crowd around them. She would just do it in Potions.

Greta seemed discontent with her friend's answer but figured it wasn't worth digging into. Remembering the hairbrush in her hand, Greta held it out. "Here, brush that mess of hair. Honestly, it's almost as bad as Potter's!"

Margo made a face at the comparison before laughing, tugging the brush through her hair roughly. Soothing her friend's worries, Margo began to stuff her face but Greta stopped her.

"Don't you need to go to Potions, Marge?"

"Merphins bearf! Phanks Grefa!" Margo explained, mouth full of toast. Grabbing another roll from the table, Margo grabbed her bag [which Greta had brought from the Hufflepuff Basement for her, thank Merlin] and hurried away.

When Margo arrived in Potions class [early, this time], she was again sitting with Remus Lupin and his troublemaking friends. She vaguely wondered where the other one, Peter P-something she thought, was, as this was usually his seat. Margo made a mental note to ask and another mental note to not get comfortable with this seating arrangement.

"Hullo," she greeted, giving an unsure smile.

"Hullo," Remus returned, politely. Potter was less polite.

"Here to slime us again, Wilder?" He asked, grinning teasingly. "I don't think my reputation can take another potion explosion."

"No worries, Potter," Margo said, tapping the frame of her glasses. "I can actually see today. My mum said thanks, by the way."

"But not you? That's a little ungrateful, don't you think Padfoot?" Potter suggested, with feigned sadness and accusation. Sirius looked at her with cool eyes, face not giving away anything. "After all, we went all the way up to the Owlery just to deliver that letter."

Margo rolled her eyes at him, giving a little chuckle. "I'm going to throw _another _slipper in your face if you don't stop, Potter," she threatened jokingly, eyebrow raised, before laughing at the face he pulled in response. Margo was slightly off-put by how easily the conversation was flowing. She put it down to James just being an easy person to get along with.

Remus watched the exchange with a fake frown on his face. "I'm going to pretend that I'm not hearing any of this."

"Or you could just pretend not to be a Prefect for once, Moony," Potter suggested, grinning at his friend. Remus rolled his eyes in response. Potter looked ready to say something else, but Professor Slughorn interrupted him by beginning the class.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm on a roll! I swear, this has got to be the fastest I've ever updated a story before! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I enjoyed writing it, though not as much as I did chapter 2. I'd like to thank the Guest reviewer for being my very first reviewer! I nearly cried in joy when I saw I had a review :D Please tell me if someone was out of character and how you guys are liking Margo so far. Please review! Reviews are my favorite thing ever. Anyway, chapter 4 will be up soon, hopefully.

See you all again soon!


	4. Chapter O4: I still have my Glasses

**Chapter O4:  
**At Least I Still Have My Glasses

* * *

Margo Wilder, for the first time, couldn't recall a single thing that was taught in Potions. Professor Slughorn's rambling faded to a mere buzz in the back of her mind, the Marauders absorbing most of her attention like one big, charismatic, amusing sponge. She could, however, almost instantly remember that they had talked about their favorite Muggle bands and the Hogsmeade trip, and the details of each topic. So while it was a small surprise that she earned but an 'Acceptable' on her potion that day, it made Margo frown. Slughorn's clearly disappointed puckered brow only added insult to injury, causing Margo to feel thoroughly miserable about herself as she left Potions class.

On habit, Margo turned right as she exited the dungeons. Despite how included she had been in the Marauders' conversation in class, Margo assumed that was just in Potions and parted from the group without saying anything. It was crazier than a cuckoo's nest to assume that she was their _friend_ after only a couple of days knowing them, right? It had taken a good year for Margo to consider Greta a friend and the idea of already being theirs was something she couldn't quite get her head around. Not to mention, the Marauders were _popular_. And Gryffindors, which only made it more baffling. _Anyway_, Margo reasoned, strangely unwilling to accept any notion of Gryffindor friends, _they caused me to get an 'A' in Potions._

"Oi Wilder! Where are you going?" James Potter shouted after her, causing her to turn back to him with a plainly puzzled look. Her head was cocked slightly to the right and an eyebrow was well raised in question.

"To the Library...?" Margo responded, uncertainty apparent in her voice. She didn't know why they were asking, really. Potter's boyishly handsome features twisted in disgust, clear as day, even from opposite ends of the corridor.

"Why?" He returned, pushing his big glasses back up to the bridge of his nose absentmindedly. Sirius looked vaguely annoyed by the delay, though the casual grace remained. How did he do that?

"I've a free period after Potions, so I go there to study. Is that strange, Potter?" Margo responded, moving back to where they stood as she was markedly uncomfortable with the continued shouting. It was drawing too many stares.

"Yes, extremely, Wilder," Potter rejoined, grinning like a fool. "We're off to the kitchens, if you want to be a little less of a nutter."

Margo's brows furrowed at the offer. "Is that an invitation, Potter?" She was baffled. The great James Potter, Marauder, known troublemaker and best Seeker in their school, extending an offer to hang out with him and the rest of the Marauders. She narrowed her eyes, suddenly suspicious of the unexpected invite. She'd seen where this goes before, and a swell of indignation rose in her chest. They bullied Severus what-ever-his-last-name-is, and sure, he's a Slytherin and a bit of a blood purity prick, but what was to stop the great Marauders from expanding to Hufflepuff? Not to mention that even if this invitation ended up being genuine, the Slytherins would really crack down on her if she suddenly started being mates with the Marauders. Margo, took a step back from the trio, straining to smile. No need to let them know anything, right? "No thanks if it is, Potter. I've really got to study - can't fail those O.W.L.s, you know." The excuse was feeble and she knew it, and she knew they knew it too.

"All right then, Wilder," Potter replied, one black eyebrow raised in disbelief. "Cheers then." He gave a quick nod in goodbye and twisted back around, heading off to the kitchens. Remus, pale as a new moon, looked at her with a vague mix of concern and confusion, before joining James in his departure.

"Cheers," Margo echoed weakly, eyes lingering long enough on the trio to see a chilly look from Sirius Black before she turned and hurried down the hall. Black's glance had thoroughly unsettled her. Margo was never quite sure whether the boy was simply haughty, or whether it was just his face that made him seem that way. Unlike Potter, Black had never really _laughed_ at something she said or engaged in conversation as readily as Potter did. For Merlin's sake, Remus Lupin laughed more than Black did and he always looked a little like he was about to keel over. Margo, realizing that she was practically running down the corridors, slowed her pace and breathed out sharply. _Why am I so shaken up over this?_ Margo silently questioned herself, running a trembling hand through her messy mop of strawberry blonde hair. Most of the other students had vacated the halls, classes almost ready to begin, and Margo found vaguely wondering what the Marauders were talking about in the kitchens.

Clearing her mind of such nonsense with a quick shake of her head, Margo slipped into the library. The books were a welcome escape and the smell of the old tomes, soothing. She perched on one of the empty seats at a well-hidden study table and unpacked her Potions and Charms course books with practiced haste. Margo was never the most gifted student in school, but she generally entertained a relatively high ranking if she enjoyed the subject enough to study it. Studying subjects she enjoyed was usually a fulfilling thing for Margo, but today it seemed that focus was set on evading her. _Another reason not to get involved with the Marauders_, Margo told herself. They may not need to give more than a sod all effort to maintain their 'E's, but she did. With that, Margo dived back into the text book, determined to get _something_ done during her free period other than thinking about the Marauders.

**x.X.x.X.x.X.x**

It had been chalking up to be a dandy day for Margo until Herbology. Herbology was, thank Merlin, Margo's last period. The ability of being able to take a shower directly after an entire class of messing with dragon dung was always a fortunate thing. Margo didn't think she had a high enough social ranking to get away with such things. However, it was yet another class that she didn't share with Greta. Therefore, though she was good at the subject, Margo did not really enjoy the class all too much. Not to mention, it was another class shared with Slytherin.

Professor Sprout hadn't been lying about today's topic, however, and Margo pulled a face when she walked in. Down the middle of the long, weather-worn table running the length of the greenhouse sat pots and pots of Mandrakes. Beside each pot, sat a pair of earmuffs.

"Good morning class. In front of you is the subject of today's lesson. Does anyone know what these are?" Professor Sprout inquired, addressing the entire class. Some Hufflepuff that Margo didn't know the name of raised his hand and answered her. "Very good, Mr. Logan! Now, the screams of these will only render you unconscious, but as Mr. Logan mentioned, the screams of a mature Mandrake are fatal. Please don your earmuffs now and repot your Mandrake! Be sure to completely cover the root!"

Blowing her shaggy fringe out of the way, Margo pulled her Mandrake from its pot with a hard tug. The sound, a high-pitched wailing, was miserable, and eager to be rid of it, Margo repotted the thing speedily. Unfortunately, the caterwauling continued until the rest of the class [mostly non-Hufflepuffs] finished burying the infant-like plants. By the time everyone had finished, Margo was entertaining a new headache and, as discreetly as she could manage, rubbing her temples with slightly dirty hands.

Professor Sprout, once the wailing had ceased, congratulated everyone on their hard work and reminded the class about the essay due next Wednesday before dismissing the class. Margo lingered, hastily giving every station a quick clean-up. She usually wasn't the kind to kiss ass, but Professor Sprout was not only one of her favorite professors but her Head of House as well. And Margo really wanted to earn back the five points she had lost earlier. Placing the abandoned gardening gloves into their bin and considering her job well-done, Margo double-checked her work as she headed out the door and proceeded to ram into someone.

"Oh! Crap, I'm so sorr-" Margo stopped mid-sentence, her mind having registered just who she had inadvertently slammed into. Rodolphus Lestrange was splayed awkwardly on the ground before her in a way that would be funny if Margo wasn't about to piss herself in fear. Evan Rosier stood beside him, temporarily caught off-guard by his friend's fall. Margo, hazel eyes wide in pure terror and face paler than parchment, gave a pathetic squeak before she turned and ran.

Unfortunately, the Slytherins' surprise did not stun them for very long and they gave chase not long after Margo began her flight. "Filthy fucking mudblood!" Margo wasn't entirely sure which of them shouted it [though her money was on Rosier] but it had the same impact nonetheless. Fortunately, Margo had enough time to pocket her new glasses before a Knockback Jinx hit her, sending her flying. Margo swore she had a whole minute of airtime before colliding with one of the columns she had passed earlier that day. A gasp escaped her lips as the impact forced the air from her lungs. She was quick to rebound, however, almost on her feet when a Jelly-Legs Jinx compelled her to the ground again.

The Slytherins footsteps slowed as they caught up to her, one [this time she guessed it was Lestrange] flicking another hex at her. Margo nearly screamed when the Stinging Jinx hit her arm. A large boil formed where the spell landed, hot and throbbing and swelling larger by the second. Margo, quailing beneath their intense glowers, curled into a ball, fingers entwining over the back of her neck. Her arm was on fire. _Stop being such a baby, Margaret_, Margo chided herself, fighting the tears stinging her eyes. _It's just a Stinging Jinx! Be glad you still have your fingers and your wits about you!_

Apparently Slytherins hate cowardice almost as much as they hate Mudbloods because in the next moment, Rodolphus yanked her up by the collar. She hung limply in his grasp, her feet dangling a good foot off the ground.

"The little Mudblood never even fights back. I'm beginning to wonder if she knows what to do with a wand." Lestrange's voice was deep and would probably have been very attractive if it was not twisted with such malice. His face was average for a Pureblood, however. His forehead too broad and his chin too jutting for Margo to consider him even in the same league as Sirius Black and Lucius Malfoy.

Margo met his disgusted, demeaning gaze with cowed hazel eyes. His fists were large and her face comparatively small and Margo knew witty remarks would only let her _really_ know the extent of the comparison. It was easy to act scared at any rate, seeing as Margo was, in fact, absolutely petrified. Petrified of Rodolphus. Petrified of Slytherins. Petrified of _magic_. Magic was all sunshine and daisies when it remained a concept, but in practice it was often times very frightening.

"She doesn't even try to scream anymore, Rodolphus," Rosier sighed, looking relatively bored with the whole scenario. It was only fun when they fought back - it was the challenge Evan enjoyed. Lestrange pulled a face at Rosier's words, promptly giving an eye-roll.

"This is so the mudbloods and muggles know their place - not for your entertainment, Rosier," Lestrange informed with a sigh, nearly all his rage deflated by his friend's comment. Apparently, this was an on-going issue between the two.

_Thank Merlin for that,_ Margo thought, refraining from releasing her held breath of relief. Regrettably, the thought was short-lived. Tears, which Margo proceeded to curse wildly in her head, spilt from her eyes as Rodolphus slammed her against a rough stone wall. It had gotten dark quickly after Herbology had ended and Margo hoped dearly that the lack of light concealed her tears. She was also rather glad that the Slytherins chose times that the corridors were clear of students, if only for the sake of her pride [really, no one needed to see her all snotty and swollen.] But she also wished that someone would come whirling around the corner and _Flipendo_ these arses. Alas, Margo knew she had no such good luck.

"I'll accept my apology for you having the gall to knock me over now," Rodolphus said, rapidly getting fed up with this situation. _Well, mate, that makes two of us!_ Margo thought bitterly, though she was now openly sobbing. Funnily enough, had she knocked over anyone other than Rodolphus Lestrange, she would've already apologized [profusely, she might add], thus rendering this whole attack unnecessary. Not to mention, at this close distance without her glasses and crying as she was, both Lestrange and Rosier looked rather like gnomes.

Before Margo could even open her mouth to issue the requested apology however, Rosier flicked his wand, sending another jinx her way. For brief, horrifying moment, Margo couldn't breathe. Yet, but a heartbeat later, bright yellow pus was squirting out her nose like someone had broken a faucet in her sinuses. Her apology came rushing out as fast as the pus after that.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. Please forgive me!" Margo blubbered, her words sounding nasally due to the obstruction of her nasal passages. Evan was laughing terribly behind Lestrange, getting a strange sense of pleasure from ruining her face. Lestrange dropped her a moment later.

"You'd think she'd have gotten a bit of a backbone from being mates with Potter and that damn blood traitor Black," Rosier considered aloud, inspecting their work. "But it seems she's just like Pettigrew - a sniveling little halfwit. A shame, really."

They departed after that, casting some invisibility spell that Margo didn't hear before practically breaking into a run. Margo, crumpled and crying against one of the walls of the courtyard, nursed the burning hatred she felt for them for a long while before pulling out her [safe and unbroken, thank Merlin!] glasses from her robes' pocket. One day, only Merlin knows when, Margo would snap and hex them into oblivion. And she would relish it. _But that day is not today, Margaret Wilder_, Margo told herself, pulling her wand from her other pocket and swishing away the Jelly-Legs.

Margo stood shakily, her legs seemingly not used to walking anymore, and cupped her hand to her nose in a fruitless attempt to stop the pus streaming from it. Her arm still stung like nobody's business, the festering, hot mass not subsiding at all, and her eyes felt horribly puffy from all of that crying she had done. Her pace was as fast as it could be, considering her legs remained unsure of themselves, and her trek to the Hospital Wing painfully slow. She found herself hoping that Filch would find her, just so she could be dragged there faster. But Filch always seemed to avoid her when she roamed the dark hallways of Hogwarts after curfew, so she continued shuffling along alone.

She was nearly halfway there when she heard voices. "Wilder?"

* * *

**A/N:** Longest chapter yet! Sorry for the delay, guys! A big thank you for those who reviewed [**DONT INJURE THE GINGER **and a lovely** Guest**] and please, please continue to do so! Really, reviews are love and one of the reasons that drove me to hurry up with writing this chapter. I hope you guys all enjoyed reading this chapter because it was kind of a pain in the rear to write. I hope every one is in character and that the dialogue for Rodolphus Lestrange and Evan Rosier isn't too awkward. I feel really weird writing, for the lack of a better word, bullying scenes so I really hope it reads all right. Anyway, thanks for reading!

See you soon!


	5. Chapter O5: Friends?

**Chapter O5:**  
Shouting Matches and Taking the Piss

"Wilder?"

Margo froze at the sound of Potter's voice. Her heart, currently residing in her mouth, pumped liquid lead through her veins. One clammy [and now trembling - thanks Potter] hand grasped harder at the cool stone walls of Hogwarts, suddenly needing the extra support. The swollen wound on her upper arm flared as her pulse grew hurried and Margo struggled to manage even shallow breaths, between the pus-filled nose and her panicked state. And her head felt like it'd been kicked by a very pissed off hippogriff. Margo's mind, instead of dealing with her bodily freak-out, decided to think of a way to salvage the situation. Tensions were already high between Gryffindor and Slytherin and Margo didn't really want to add insult to injury by ratting Lestrange out to Potter. If Potter even cared, that is. Maybe she was getting too full of herself with the Marauders. Whether Potter cared or not, Lestrange would kill her if the Marauders found out and Margo did not need, nor want a reason to cling to them. Margo shooed the invasive thoughts away quickly. _Deal with your current predicament and then maybe you can worry about that later,_ Margo told herself, knowing already that she wouldn't think about it later. She didn't even really want to think about it now, so why would she want to later?

His voice had come from behind her, and a good ways away, if the echo was of any good as a reference. That was a good thing. It meant that she could tell him to go away without him seeing her plainly horrible and humiliating face. However, that meant talking, which would reveal her problem anyway, given that her voice was so incredibly nasally at the moment, due to the pus. Footsteps sounded from behind Margo and she grew desperate and frantic. Maybe she could just knock his glasses off - Potter was blind without them! But, Margo counted two pairs of footsteps and that idea was off the table. Maybe she should just keep walking and pretend she hadn't heard them! Margo discarded that one almost as quickly, simply because of how silly it was. Maybe she should do what all those ridiculous heroines in those Muggle movies her mum always watched and faint! It was then Margo completely realized that she was just grasping at nonexistent straws. _Oh, bugger it all!_ Margo growled silently, a burst of anger from her frustration with her own helplessness coursed through her before the resignation set in. Pulling her sleeve down in a fruitless attempt to hide the evidence of the Stinging Jinx, Margo, hand over her nose, turned to face the music.

James blooming Potter and Sirius bloody Black were practically _strolling_ up to her, their strides all long and graceful and their faces perfectly un-pus-ed. Margo could almost feel her pride withering up and dying inside her like one of Professor Sprout's plants when some student forgot to water it. Margo, despite the situation, did not forget to make note of the bags beneath their eyes, however.

"Oh, hey there Potter, Black," Margo mumbled in a fruitless attempt at informality. Blood rushed to her face with every unfortunate sounding word she spoke and Margo felt her cheeks begin to burn with a tomato-red blush. "What's up?"

She nearly began to cry again at the disgusted face Potter pulled. "What the bloody hell happened to your face?"

"Oh, you noticed? I was going for that jinxed look that's all the rage nowadays," Margo replied, carrying on the crap act as if nothing was wrong. Her eyes burned but she refused to allow herself to melt into the snotting, crying mess she had been in front of the Slytherins. "Just trying to stay hip, you know. I'm sure Evans will hop on the bandwagon soon enough." _This is pathetic,_ Margo told herself, finding herself rather bitter tonight. She had absolutely _no idea_ why, though. Tonight had been perfectly peachy.

"First off, Wilder, no one says '_hip_'," he said the word like it was poisonous and his face screwed up as if it tasted bad. "Secondly, Evans is far too brilliant to ever do _this_-" he gestured to Margo's face as if there wasn't even a word for how bad it was. "-to herself. And third, what wanker hit you with a Pus-Spewing Jinx?"

Margo briefly contemplated making up some story about her wand breaking or a misfired spell or _something_ other than the truth but knew well enough just how bad of a liar she was. For Merlin's sake, she couldn't even get the most gullible girl in her year [Greta Cathlove] to believe her when she lied. And Greta had truly believed that Remus Lupin was a poof and arse over elbow for Sirius Black for the entirety of Third Year! People even stopped telling her about surprise parties and anything to do with booze because she was incapable of lying well. She decided, after a good few throbs from her arm, to get it over with. It'd would be just like pulling off a band-aid, Margo assured herself. Of course, she'd never really been good at that either.

"I knocked over... a certain Slytherin and he wanted an apology," she vaguely supplied Potter, very aware of Black's gaze on her. "Of course, it was on accident." Margo added. She didn't want them to get the wrong idea. Margo was well aware of her spinelessness in her regard to Slytherin House.

"It wasn't Snivellus, was it? I swear if that wanker d-"

"No, Potter. It wasn't...er... Sever..um..." Margo stopped for a second, honestly blanking on 'Snivellus's real name. She resisted the urge to pick at her arm."Severus! Severus. Right. It definitely wasn't him."

James seemed mildly upset by that, though it wasn't as if he really needed another reason to hate the Slytherin. Margo didn't really see the problem with Severus, besides him being a little greasy, a bit of major sod and a blood-purity nut of a Slytherin. _Oh wait._ Margo nearly slapped herself for being so ridiculous._ Well, at least now I know I'll never be a lawyer._ She'd probably end up sending her charge to Azkaban herself, albeit accidentally.

Margo, still covering her nose with one hand, shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. "But more importantly, you guys know jinxes, right? Can one of you please undo the one currently causing pus to squirt from my nose? My fingers are starting to get sticky and I'm sure it smells worse than dragon dung."

"I'm offended, Wilder!" Potter's grin said otherwise, however, and he proceeded to pull his wand from his back pocket. "And yes, your face does smell absolutely rank." He tapped the end of her nose and the pressure in her nose dissipated. Margo prodded her nose with a cautious finger, grimacing when it came back slick with yellow sludge. She wiped away the pus with the edge of her sleeve, only to have more dribble out. _New glasses and new robes within a week of each other,_ Margo thought, frowning at the thick liquid on her robes, _mum's definitely going to get suspicious._ Margo didn't realized the silence that had settled over the trio until Potter broke it.

"You're not very good at dodging questions, you know."

James Potter's dark, bulky brows were raised and his brown eyes expectant. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his straight nose with his first two fingers before crossing his arms. It was strange for Margo to be on the receiving end of Serious-Potter, having really only been familiar with Carefree-Potter, and was unnerved by the contrast. It didn't help that he had a big height advantage either. Or that Sirius Black [who was noticeably taller than Potter] stood like a shadow behind him. But it was the intensity of Potter's gaze made Margo crumble so fast that it was embarrassing.

"Rodolphus Lestrange and Evan Rosier," Margo confessed quietly, hazel eyes shifting away from Potter's face, his stare becoming too much to bear. A strange sense of shame and a very reasonable feeling of fear bubbled up in her chest. Margo wasn't entirely sure, however, whether that shame was from narking on the Slytherins or how easily Potter made her feel like a child in trouble. It was probably both, if Margo was honest with herself. Her eyes flickered back to his face just in time to see it twist with anger. "Potter! Don't you dare say anything about it! Or do anything! Please!" Her voice came out choked and with much less impact than she wanted it to have.

"Are you bloody mad, Wilder?" Anger melted into incredulity."You're just going to let them get away with it?!"

"Oh, get your head out of your arse, Potter!" Margo growled back, the pounding in her head and the burning of her arm growing with every word. In the back of her mind, Margo was in shock. Why the hell was she yelling at him? She had never really been the type to shout and the confrontation involved in arguing made her distinctly uncomfortable. Still, that little 'Rational-Margo' voice was drowned out by the rush that often came with conflict and Margo continued. "Do you think I enjoy getting hexed to next Tuesday every day? That I'm the sort of sorry sod that gets off on pain? No, but what can I do about it, Potter?" Her frenzy faded quickly and Margo wilted again, leaning against the wall in exhaustion. "What can I possibly do?"

James Potter was frowning at her. It was a strange expression and Margo found it honestly made him less pleasant to look at. Not that James Potter was Margo's choice of eye-candy.

"Fight back, Wilder," he supplied weakly [for him, at least, James could never really be _weak_] "I can't believe I'm even suggesting this, but tell a Professor. Do _something_ other than sit on your arse and submit to them."

"With my amazing magic skills? Oi, Potter, I think you're really on to something there," Margo said, surprising herself with her own sarcasm. "I'm not a magical genius like you and Black-" she gestured to them wearily in turn. "-and I'd have to be utterly off my rocker to take on two or three Slytherins by myself. You two at least have each others' backs, Merlin, you Marauders practically have the entire school covering you." Margo avoided his idea of telling a Professor - she didn't need, nor want, all that pity-born attention and they would have to write her mother about it. And Margo knew her mother wouldn't be of any use in the Wizarding World. She was a Muggle after all.

"At least you'd have a spine then!" Potter shot back, arms gesturing wildly in exasperation. He pushed up his glasses again. "Merlin, you're more of a coward than Peter!"

Margo very nearly laughed at the irony of his words. "Seems like I'm hearing that a lot tonight. Rosier said the same thing." _What are you _doing_, Margaret? Are you trying to piss off Potter as well?_ Oh, there's rational Margo again. And again she ignored herself. The only thing Margo was sure of right now was that her head hurt, her arm burned and she was miffed. She didn't know whether she was miffed with herself, or Potter, or the Slytherins or all three. But she knew she was miffed and that was something, at least.

"Watch it, Wilder," Potter snapped, suddenly seeming very tired himself. Dark circles looked like bruises beneath his eyes [and probably Sirius' too, but Margo was too intimidated to risk a glance.]

"Oh yeah, sure, I'll watch it like you watch Evans' arse. I'll look at it longingly like it's the fittest thing ever as it rounds the corner but never really have the balls to go and get it myself." Margo knew she'd hit the nerve she'd been aiming for when Potter's face twisted with a venomous glare. The tension between them was broken when Sirius Black barked out a laugh. Margo blinked, her eyes going wide at his unexpected outburst.

"Oi Prongs, I think you finally found her backbone!" He barked, clutching his stomach and all but rolling on the floor. Potter's glare shifted to Black [thank Merlin, Margo was about ready to shit herself - these guys were scarier than Slytherin] but it seemed softer now and more like the Potter that Margo knew. James rolled his eyes at his friend's mockery, running long fingers through his already perpetually messy black hair.

But Margo's attention was drawn more to the handsome boy laughing wildly at his friend. This being the first time the boy laughed in front of her [when she could see, that one time when she was sneaking to the Astronomy Tower didn't really count in Margo's opinion], Margo was dumbstruck. Her mouth hung open as if it had a broken hinge and she was sure that her eyebrows had disappeared beneath her fringe. James and Sirius had begun to take the piss with each other, thank Merlin, and they didn't notice her temporarily looking like a complete tosser. She was also glad that she had time to appreciate them and the way that they lit up, like stars in the sky.

And sure, Sirius had never really laughed at something she had done and he was colder than ice to her still, but Margo couldn't think about anything other than how brilliant he looked when he laughed or when he smirked like a smarmy git at something Potter said. And Margo couldn't help but laugh at them - it started out as a muffled cough-like thing and quickly progressed to body-shaking, rib-breaking strength.

The Marauders' conversation stopped when she started laughing, the pair pulling faces at her sudden outburst. Sirius rocked back on his heels and raised one [almost] perfect brow, while Potter settled for furrowing his eyebrows. "You alright there, Wilder?" Sirius asked with a small frown.

"I think she may have lost it, Padfoot," Potter said, adjusting his glasses as he inspected the Hufflepuff.

"No! No-" Margo fruitlessly attempted to control her erratic breathing. She really didn't want them to think she was off her rocker. "I've not lost it, Potter, you knob head. I was going to say something nice about you two but now all I can think of is what sods you two are." Margo's mouth stretched into a lopsided grin.

"Is that any way for a _Hufflepuff_ to speak? I thought you lot got points off for even _thinking_ bad things," Potter said, returning the grin.

"Nah, Potter, don't you know it's all a ruse? Secretly, Hufflepuff is worse than Slytherin," Margo said in a quiet voice. "We just want to lure everyone into a false sense of security before we ruin them." No reaction. Apparently, she'd said it too seriously. "Merlin, that was a joke. It was supposed to be funny. You're supposed to _laugh_."

"That's a lot of 'supposed to's, Wilder," James chuckled at her failed attempt at humor. "And, if that were true, I'm sure Hufflepuff wouldn't be so rubbish at Quidditch."

Margo pulled a face at his jab and rolled her eyes. The skin beneath her nose was tight and crusty from dried pus and Margo was suddenly reminded of where they were. And that her arm, which had been but a minor throb when she was distracted, was on fire. "Yeah, good one, Potter. Now, would either of you happen to know how to fix a Stinging Jinx, would you? My arm's on bloody fire right now."

"They hit you with a Stinging Jinx? What did you do to get that, Wilder? Tell him to pull his head out of his arse?" Potter asked, as if

"No, but I _am_ Muggle-born," Margo said, shrugging as she rolled up her sleeve to offer the swollen, red monster that was once her upper arm. "I suppose my inherent filthiness rubbed off on him or something." Blood purity was once an issue that Margo would've been incredibly touchy about, back in First Year when she just discovered that there was an entire class of people that automatically hated her, but now it was simply a fact of life. And anyway, they were all pricks.

"Oh." Apparently Potter didn't know how to handle that. Margo watched him, steadily for once, and gave a small smile when he met her eyes again. "Oi, Padfoot, you're good with this one, yeah?"

Black raised a brow in response. "She should just go to the Hospital Wing, like everyone else does."

"I'd rather not, really, if there's another option," Margo replied, blowing her fringe away from her eyes absentmindedly. "Madam Pomfrey would hold me for at least another day and I can't miss any more class. I already have detention and, Merlin, is it boring in the Hospital Wing. Also, shouldn't we be worried about Filch or something?" She was starting to get antsy. This was the longest she'd been out past curfew, excluding her usual excursions to the Astronomy Tower and the kitchens, and they were talking completely exposed as well.

"Nah, he's still on the other side of the grounds," Potter answered, not explaining _how_ he knew this. "Just patch her up already, Padfoot. We gotta go."

Sirius stepped toward Margo, closing the considerable distance with one stride. He towered over her, even from a good foot or so away, and was incredibly intimidating. Not to mention, this whole situation was made all the more embarrassing by the fact that she a) smelled like dragon dung from Herbology, b) looked horrible from crying and c) was covered in dried pus. His eyes, ever composed, gleamed with something unreadable to Margo. Or, at least unreadable before he flicked his wand at her arm and she shouted in a mix of pain and surprise.

"Bloody hell, Black! You could have mentioned that!" Margo hissed, rubbing her arm where the sore had been gingerly.

"Sorry, I thought you knew, with how much you are in the Hospital Wing, Wilder." He was smirking now. The conversation seemed frighteningly familiar and Margo suddenly remembered why - she'd said the exact same thing to him when she'd broken his nose.

_Merlin's saggy left bollock,_ Margo thought, staring at Sirius Black, absolutely flabbergasted. _That was a joke. Sirius Black just made a joke._ Margo raised her eyebrows at him, giving a crooked grin when the shock wore off.

"Brilliantly done, Black," Margo complemented, unrolling her sleeve and running a hand through her messy mop of hair. She was feeling better already. "You two need to go now, right?" She didn't wait for their answer. "Cheers, then." Margo's lopsided grin grew as she backed away.

"See you in Potions, Wilder!" Potter called after her, as they headed down different hallways. "Hopefully you won't reek next time!"

Margo pulled a face then let out a soft chuckle. Reality was quick to hit once the Marauders disappeared from sight, however. _What the hell was that?_ Margo thought to herself, all of the emotions that had been put off bull-ramming her all at once. _Merlin, I think I just acted like their friend._ She ran a hand through her hair again, messing up the strawberry blonde locks up even further.

Margo wrestled with disbelief the entire trip back to the Hufflepuff Commons. It was only when she collapsed into bed that Margo decided that the entire thing had been a dream. Surely nothing of such good luck would ever happen to her, right?

* * *

**A/N**: I know the ending is a little rushed but it was either that or making this chapter a good 4,000 or so words. It's already over 3,000 and that's a lot for me already! Anyway, thank you to those who reviewed [Specifically** Nicole M. Tracy** and the same wonderful** Guest**], it really means a lot to me to know you guys are liking the story so far! Also, it's great to know how well-received Margo is! Super happy to know that she is a believable character! Please continue to review as well, it really pushes me to continue a story :) Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter and that everyone was, again, in character.

See you all soon!


	6. Chapter O6: Good Friends Old Routines

**Chapter O6:**

Good Friends and Old Routines

* * *

Morning arrived far too soon for Margo Wilder the next day. Her headache had returned with a vengeance and she discovered, via the light pink stain on her pillowcase, that the back of her head had been bleeding last night. _Brilliant_, Margo thought, mind still fogged with sleep, _that's gonna be hard to get out._ Scratching absentmindedly at the new, itchy scabs on the back of her head, Margo clumsily untangled herself from the thick covers of her bed. Her feet hit the plush carpet with a soft thud and Margo shuffled, zombie-like, out of the dorms and into the showers, a pile of blindly gathered clothes in her arms. Dodging awkwardly around the other Hufflepuffs, Margo finally reached the girl's shower rooms, stripped then climbed in eagerly. She tried to ignore the stares. It was like they had never seen a pus-covered, scabbed girl before.

Luckily, Margo had made a habit of setting her alarm early [because she was one of those people that would sleep all day if someone never bothered to wake her and the Professors didn't really appreciate persistent tardiness] and had avoided most of the late-rising crowd. One of those late-rising people being Greta. Margo was overly concerned that the girl would hover over her like a worried mother hen. And Margo did not handle being coddled nor pitied very well. She had too much pride to tolerate those things.

Margo hummed in pleasure as the water hit her shoulders and made an effort to avoid looking at the color the water turned after rolling off of her. She suspected that the water would be tinted with some brownish-yellow color and seeing _that_ would ruin anyone's shower. Once the layer of grime from last nights' mishaps was thoroughly scrubbed off, Margo hurried to dry off. She gave a quick _Episky_ to the back of her head to hide any leftover trace of yesterday's damage before she hopped into her robes. Margo was busy struggling into her black tights when Greta wandered into to the bathrooms.

"Morning, Marge," Greta chirped, already bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Her blonde hair was pulled back messily into a bun. She gave a little wave as she migrated over to the sink to wash up. "Where'd you go last night? You weren't in the Great Hall for dinner." A small crinkle had formed between her eyebrows.

"Oh, I headed to the Library after Herbology. Accidently ended up falling asleep there," Margo lied, instantly feeling a rush of guilt. She felt heat rush to her ears, her nerves getting the best of her. Margo, knowing her face would betray her, made sure to keep from looking at her friend.

Greta raised an eyebrow at Margo, blue eyes questioning and slightly disappointed. "Margo, if you plan on lying well to anyone, including me, at least bother cover the evidence." The fair Hufflepuff turned to her friend after she finished working her hair into a fresh French braid.

"Oh bollocks. I really did mean to throw those robes in the hamper," Margo muttered, frustrated with herself. She pushed her sopping strawberry blonde hair out of her face with an irritated huff. After a few moments of silence between the pair, Margo dared to look at Greta. "I knew you'd worry."

"For Merlin's sake, of course I'd worry! You're a bloody mess recently!" Greta said, hands propping on her hips in a strangely maternal exasperation. She have a loud, relenting sigh before she continued. "But, really, Margo, I expected you to trust me enough not to get involved in things that you don't want me to. We've been friends since First Year."

Margo, for a very brief moment, weighed the pros and cons of running away. Her gut screamed run like hell and deal with this later but her head [ever the reasonable one] said that she'd have to share quarters with Greta for the rest of her schooling years and making things awkward was a horrible idea. Margo settled with wringing her hands. "I do trust you!" _Mostly_, Margo added silently. Really, she didn't trust anyone _entirely_. It was silly to trust someone entirely. But Margo wasn't really feeling the desire to ruin her friendship with one of her few friends and, thus, her opinion remained unspoken. "I just don't want you involved with Slytherin." The Slytherins' harassment would completely wreck Greta, if they ever decided to unleash their wrath onto her Wizard-born friend. Greta was a very soft-hearted person and Margo didn't think that she would withstand the maltreatment very well. Anyway, Greta was much more interested in Charms and food than fighting. And Margo wanted to keep it that way.

Greta made a face. "Alright, fine, Margo. I won't do anything-" Margo was about to interrupt, but was stopped by a quick shush from Greta. "But! Oh calm down and let me finish, Margo," Greta scolded when her friend pulled an impatient face. "But, just know that if you ever decide to, I don't know, hex those snots from behind or rat them out - I'm with you one hundred percent, no matter the consequences, okay?" The blonde then proceeded to give a small smile at Margo, tucking a strand of flaxen hair behind her ear.

"Okay, Greta. I'm sorry. Thank you," She replied sheepishly, thoroughly shamed by her friend. "You know, my mom could learn a trick or two from you." Margo smiled, almost timidly, adjusting the worn strap of her messenger bag absentmindedly.

Greta smiled wide at Margo's muted joke. "I know! I've been telling her that since I met her! She simply doesn't guilt you enough." The taller blonde began migrating toward the exit, wrapping a deep plum scarf around her neck.

Margo snorted at that. "Yeah, _totally_ doesn't guilt me enough."

The pair moved with renewed haste when Margo's stomach growled hungrily, stumbling out of the barrel-door haphazardly. They waved a polite 'hello' to the Fat Friar as he phased out of the kitchens.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to that," Margo thought aloud, as the ghost disappeared through another wall.

"Used to what?" Greta asked, snapping out of her daze at Margo's question.

"Ghosts. Magic, really," Margo admitted as they rounded another corner. "Did I tell you that I broke Sirius Black's nose the other night?"

Margo's confession flew straight over Greta's head, the last tidbit of information too interesting to be ignored. "You what? Merlin, Margo how? And why?"

Margo chuckled at her friend's flabbergasted look. "I was on my way to the Astronomy Tower and Black and Potter scared me half to death. I, going on my lovely Muggle-born instincts, ended of dropping my wand and socking Black in the nose." She stopped for a second, rubbing the back of her messy hair nervously at the memory. "He was surprisingly understanding."

"That was just the other day, Margo!" Greta exclaimed, bright blue eyes widening in some strange emotion which Margo was not socially skilled enough to discern. "Why hadn't you told me?"

"I don't really know," Margo answered honestly, brow furrowing. She thought on it for a moment, drawing a blank on her reasoning for the past few days. "I haven't really talked to you much lately, I guess. Anyway, I fixed his nose no problem so it wasn't really a big deal."

"Big deal? It's a huge deal!" Greta countered, milky arms crossing her chest. "Sirius Black and James Potter! Well, they're practically celebrities."

"Yeah. Well, it's not like we have much to do with one another outside of Potions and the occasional run-in in the halls. Most people can boast that, at least," Margo reasoned, raising an eyebrow at her friend's enthusiasm. "It's not like Potter is unfriendly."

"Well, yes, I suppose that's true, but Black is. Every female Hufflepuff in our Year thinks he's one of the fittest boys in Hogwarts," she said, as if it was a well-known fact. "And he isn't all that outgoing unless he's absolutely bladdered."

"Yes," Margo replied with forced indifference. The memory of Sirius Black laughing was still far too frustratingly fresh in her mind for her to rationalize her way out of feeling attracted to him. Thankfully, she was able to keep her ears from warming in embarrassment."But I don't really talk to _Black _- Potter is really the only one I've held a conversation with. Maybe Remus - but I think we only talked about potions."

"Point taken, Marge. I suppose those Marauders are more trouble than they're worth anyway," Greta continued, seeming a little deflated. Margo hummed her agreement, catching herself unconsciously scanning the crowd for Potter and Black and feeling thoroughly ashamed for doing so. She refused to allow herself to entertain even the thought of a crush on one of the Marauders. _It would make things unnecessarily awkward,_ Margo told herself firmly, _and anyway, I don't even want to get involved with them._ They would definitely be too much of a hassle for Margo to handle. Maintaining one friend was hard enough, Margo couldn't imagine how hard having more than that would be.

A comfortable silence settled over the two, their minds going elsewhere as the conversation faded. The lull lasted only a heartbeat before Greta picked it up again, however. "I can't believe it's almost Christmas! What're you thinking about getting your mum?"

Margo grinned widely at the mention of the Christmas holiday and her mum. "Not at all! Are you kidding? I have three essays due this week and tests to study for. But only for another week! Then no more essays or Slytherins or all-nighters," she said, uncharacteristically happy with the idea of a break. "And I'm sure I can get a new plant or something for my mum - she loves those. But I'm sure _you_ already have what you're going to get her all planned out?" Margo arched an eyebrow accusingly.

"Of course," Greta replied, her baby-face looking sweet even while she smirked in triumph. "I'm getting her a new set of knives. I don't know how you two live with those old things."

Margo snorted, still smiling lopsidedly. "Not everyone is as obsessed with cooking as you, Greta. We're content with sandwiches - you know, the things with bread and ham that can be cut with a _butter knife_?"

"That hurts, you know," Greta said, feigning hurt quite spectacularly. "I can't believe you live off only _sandwiches_."

Margo chuckled. "We get by," she joked as they entered the Great Hall for breakfast. The thick, near deafening level of chatter that filled the air all but made Margo swivel on her heel and skip breakfast. She settled for looking uncomfortable and playing nervously with one of the many assorted clips pinning back her wild hair. Greta perked up significantly at the sight of food, however, and Margo's stomach growled hungrily in anticipation.

"Oh! The elves made French toast today," Greta noted, migrating to the Hufflepuff table after giving a small wave to Bertram Aubrey at the Ravenclaw table.

"Mmm. Gotta thank them for that next time we raid the kitchens," Margo replied, sneaking a glance at the ever-noisy Gryffindor table and the Marauders. Her attention returned to her friend after a moment, her mind being required to seat herself. Margo busied herself with loading her plate while Greta engaged a few other Hufflepuffs in conversation. Listening long enough to realize the topic was Charms, Margo quickly tuned them out and began stuffing her face.

It was weird to think that this was her first normal breakfast in a few days, the others being missed or hurried. Actually as she sat, mouth full of syrup-sodden French toast, she found herself feeling a strange mix of boredom and anticipation. Margo had never been the thrill-seeker type - she almost retched every time she rode a rollercoaster and daring stunts confused her. Yet, Margo was unable to relax. Nothing bad (or suspiciously good) had happened to her and after the events of the past few days, it almost seemed abnormal. While Margo remained apprehensive about how long this peace of sorts would last, she found it odd that she was incapable of returning to her everyday life.

_Relax already,_ Margo insisted, her mind refusing to settle down. _It's just another day. Enjoy it._ She was frustrated, but not surprised when her mind snubbed her demand.

Margo's mind was eager enough to revert to its old ways when she shuffled into Potions class. Peter P-whatishisnameagain had returned to class and Margo rendered unable to sit with the Marauders again. Margo felt a swell of happiness when James and Remus bothered to wave at her, which she quickly stifled. She had to remind herself that they were too much trouble to bother before taking a reluctant seat beside Mary Macdonald.

Mary Macdonald was a pleasant person but just a wee bit overbearing in her sociability and a bit of a gossip. She was also dauntingly good-looking, all high cheekbones and dark brown waves, and a _Gryffindor_. But, she was one of the few people Margo knew the name of without thinking too hard and, therefore, one of her first choices for a lab partner.

"Morning, Wilder," Mary greeted, pink lips pulling prettily into a smile. "You won't slime me like you did Potter, will you?"

Margo felt her ears warm in embarrassment and frowned. "Nope. I can see today, no worries." She nearly flinched at how unnatural her voice sounded. _How does everyone manage to be so friendly with practically a stranger?_ Margo wondered, unpacking her things. It usually (generally speaking here - James Potter doesn't count) took her months of steady interaction to even get mildly comfortable with another person. How Mary could simply talk to her as if they'd known each other forever baffled her. Thankfully, Margo didn't have to suffer contemplating the complexities of social interaction long. Professor Slughorn called attention and Margo smiled at finally being able to focus on something that she was actually _good_ at.

The rest of Margo's day went without incident. No Slytherins bothered her. No Marauders attempted to speak with her. No detentions were ushered. The excitement that had been plaguing Margo for the past few days faded and she slipped back into her old routines. As she walked back to the Hufflepuff Basement after dinner, she rationalized away the slight prick of sadness that had been troubling her since morning. While exceedingly happy with her lack of injuries, she discovered that she was a bit upset over the lack of interaction with the Marauders. But she put this down to a simple desire to be higher on the social ladder. That's what all teenagers wanted, right? Higher social standing? Deciding that dwelling on the Marauders was an unhealthy waste of her time, Margo focused on the positive side. _This is a good thing, Margaret! _Margo told herself resolutely. _Fewer distractions from homework and studying for the usual gauntlet of tests before Christmas holidays._ It took a few minutes of repeating that fact before Margo rid herself of the strange disappointment. _This is a good thing. They're too much trouble. This is a _good_ thing._

The next week went by in a flurry of all-nighters and kitchen raids. Margo was distinctly dissatisfied with all but one of her essays (the one in Astronomy, of course - it was over Jupiter's moons. Totally worth the detention.) and upset that she had very little spare time for stargazing. Greta had begun dating Bertram Aubrey, for some unapparent reason, and Margo had barely managed to get a word in edgewise when the two were together. The roll the Marauders had briefly played in her life had also faded - waves no longer being given when they saw each other in Potions and even acknowledgement being forsaken. Margo figured they had grown bored with her. It was the final day before the Christmas holidays and Professor Slughorn seemed adamant to hold a holiday Slug Club gathering before school was out.

"He's just so fantastic, Marge! I think I love him more than cooking!" Greta gushed as they headed to dinner. "What do you think? Margo? Are you listening?"

Margo had tuned Greta's rambling out awhile ago, back at the Hufflepuff Basement barrels, and did not realize that Greta had detected her inattention. It was the prolonged silence that finally caught her notice. Margo looked over at Greta, whose well-kept brows were pulled together in displeasure, sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Greta. Aubrey's all you've been talking about since Monday."

Greta sighed, looking a little guilty. "I know. I'm just so happy," she said, fiddling with her necklace. "Forgive me?"

Margo gave a small smile. "Duh." She chuckled softly before continuing. "I kinda need your help with something though, Greta."

"Hmm? What is it?" Her friend replied, smiling wide at Margo. The pair entered the Great Hall slowly, having avoided the earlier rush of students.

"Can I borrow something to wear for Slug Club? I don't really want to wear the same dress that I have for the past three years," Margo admitted, thinking about the plain black dress that had begun to fade with wear.

"I might have something. It might not fit too well though, seeing as I'm taller than you," Greta said, a little apologetic. "Do you have a belt?"

"I think so...? Oh, don't look at me like that, Greta!" Margo huffed, pulling a face at Greta's disbelieving look. "I wear my robes here! Why would I bother to bring a belt?"

"You can borrow one of mine, I suppose." Greta offered, brow furrowing in thought. "You should've told me about this back when we went to Hogsmeade, Margo!"

"I wasn't desperate then!" Margo shot back defensively. "Anyway, there was a meteor shower that night and I was preoccupied with that."

Greta rolled her eyes playfully. "Really, you and your stars. I really just don't understand your fascination."

"I don't understand how _you_ don't find them fascinating. They're fantastic." Margo retorted, blowing her fringe from her eyes. "Anyway, Slug Club. You're sure you don't mind me borrowing your stuff?"

"Not at all! I trust you," Greta stated, giving Margo a smile.

"I'll return them when we get to my mum's, okay?" She returned with a lopsided and eager grin.

Margo was halfway done moving a scoop of spaghetti to her plate when Greta decided to drop a bomb. "Ah. I might've forgotten to tell you... I'm going skiing with Bertram and his friends. I'm so sorry, Margo."

The scoop slipped from Margo's hand, landing against the table with a loud _clang_. Flustered, Margo began to clean it up before it disappeared. She fell back on her spot on the bench hard but she ignored the new pain in her rear. "Yeah, you did" Margo began, urging herself to look happy for her friend's sake. "But that's okay! I don't mind. Mum might be a bit sad, though. Do you want me to give your present to her for you?"

"Yes please!" Greta replied, looking a little more than guilty. "Are you disappointed?"

Margo contemplated lying to her friend, weighing the pros with the cons, before deciding that it wasn't worth it. "A little," she admitted, fingering one of the clips pinning her wild hair in place. "But we see each other enough. And you're excited about it, so it's okay."

"Sorry," Greta mumbled, pushing a pea around her plate with a fork.

"It's fine! I'm fine!" Margo insisted, giving a sharp exhale. "You'll just have to help me look _fabulous _for Slug Club, okay?" She gave a large grin, flipping imaginary long hair childishly.

Greta laughed, tucking a piece of short hair behind her friend's ear with a smile. "Of course! Absolutely fabulous."

"Now, I really need to eat or I'm going to be too grumpy to put up with Slughorn tonight," Margo snorted, shoving a roll in her mouth.

"Well hurry! You're going to need to shower so I can have a fresh face to work with," Greta informed, giggling. "Oh I'm so excited! You never let me do these things!"

"Dwon't gwet used to it," Margo mumbled, her voice muffled by bread. "One time thing only!"

"Too late!"

Margo groaned, rolling her eyes and laughing. "Oh no..."

* * *

**A/N:** So sorry for the incredibly long time between updates, guys! Life kind of caught up with me. I hope every one enjoyed this chapter though, despite its slightly filler-y nature. Thank you so much for the reviews! Special call out to **Marzena** and **Guest** (x2) for reviewing last chapter and specifically Guest for lighting a fire under my rear to update! Please review and tell me what you think. I love hearing what you guys have to say. Sorry for the lack of Marauders and the slow pace - it starts to pick up soon, no worries!

See you next time!


	7. Chapter O7: Slug Club and Firewhiskey

**Chapter O7:**

Of Slug Club and Firewhiskey

Margo Wilder had never been one for large get-togethers, especially when she knew but a handful of the people present. She felt distinctly uncomfortable and impossibly awkward, hovering around the edges of the crowd and lingering near the appetizers offered. Greta had done well taming the wild, cropped mess that was Margo's hair, or at least fastening it into a relatively respectable fashion. Tight strawberry blonde curls, steadily falling into the chaotic waves that were standard, dominated the back of her head. Her bangs, a smidgen too casual (or, really, too shaggy) for Slug Club, had been twisted away from her face and subtly pinned with bobby pins and shaped with absurd amounts of hairspray. Greta had brushed her face smooth with powder and painted her lips a deep russet. Greta's dress, a pretty, diluted gold color (thankfully, something that wouldn't stand out too much) was, unfortunately, a few sizes too large but was cinched at the waist nicely with a thick black belt.

In all honesty, Margo felt very not-herself and increasingly uncomfortable. The black hose compressed her stomach as if with the sole purpose to make eating an unpleasant occurrence and lipstick kept getting on anything she stuck relatively close to her mouth. Not to mention the all-consuming fear that her eye might start itching and that she, on habit, would rub it and smear mascara all over her face. It was terrifying, really.

She had arrived early, one of the first few. This was unintentional but handy, as she was quick to get the meet-and-greet with Slughorn over and done with and had a plausible excuse for leaving ahead of time. Sipping absentmindedly on her mock-champagne, Margo watched Slughorn carry on to Lily Evans, who listened with remarkable patience. She looked absolutely brilliant. Her red hair loose and effortlessly perfect, a beautiful contrast to the deep green of her dress, which also brought out the spring green of her eyes. How attractive Lily looked did not spark any true envy inside Margo, only an insurmountable feeling of self-consciousness and crazy amounts of intimidation. It occurred to Margo that Lily Evans might be even harder to talk to than Sirius Black, in all his frustratingly handsome glory. _Potter sure knows how to pick a challenge_, Margo thought, resisting the urge to chuckle aloud.

Speaking of James Potter, the boy, unkempt hair, glasses and all actually made an appearance. Margo had to struggle to keep herself from spewing sparkling cider when she spotted his date, however. Sirius Black stood tall and handsome beside his bespectacled, tousled...'date'. She knew both Marauders were in Slug Club but in intentionally matching apparel, the both of them looked like poofs. Sirius pulled the suit off better - the crisp suit looking much like a second skin on the Pureblood and the way he wore the waistcoat seemed as natural as breathing for him. His hair, black as pitch, hung around his face like it always did but it didn't detract from the elegance of his attire. James appeared a little more awkward with the whole ordeal - his features and actions a little too rough to be considered elegant. It was only how hard he was trying to impress Lily Evans that made it even remotely attractive. Not that Potter was unattractive - just a different kind than Black.

Margo eventually realized she was gawking, however, and quickly averted her gaze. _Is it too soon to leave?_ She wondered, fingering the lip of her glass in contemplation. Slughorn had yet to serve dinner so she assumed the answer was 'yes'. James' failed attempt at seducing Evans drew her attention again and it was only after this failure that the Chaser became aware of her presence.

"Merlin, Wilder, don't you clean up well!" He joked, recovering quickly after the harsh rejection by Lily.

_Oh, so we're on speaking terms again?_ Margo thought, surprised about how bitter the thought sounded. Why was she so upset about the silence between them for the past week? Shoving away those troubling thoughts, Margo couldn't help but warm right back up to the Gryffindors. "Stop it, Potter. You'll make me blush," Margo snorted, rolling her eyes. "You could use a little more cleaning up though, Potter." Adjusting her glasses and squinting as if inspecting him, Margo chuckled when James pulled a face.

"I suppose you're having a brilliant time here tonight, Wilder?" James asked, laughing at Margo's comment. "I just got here and I can tell Slug's outdone himself!"

"Haha, Potter. Don't even get me started on how bored I am right now or I might not make it through dinner," she said, a little sheepishly as she scanned the crowd. Her eyes caught where the Slytherins were and she made a mental note to avoid those places at all costs.

James laughed softly, for once not wanting to draw attention. "I thought putting up with other people's crap was Hufflepuff's specialty. Where's all that promised patience?"

"I'm a Hufflepuff, Potter - not a saint. I can't even begin to comprehend how Evans puts up with his rambling," Margo replied, grabbing for another drink off the nearby buffet table.

"Comparing Evans to a saint, Wilder? We-" James was cut off by Slughorn, dressed in a very...green suit, inserting himself into their little group.

"Hello," he greeted, smiling pleasantly. "I'm glad you two made it! You both have been missing many of our meetings and I was beginning to worry."

"Hello Professor Slughorn, actu-" James began, already knowing where this was heading.

"Sirius, have you spoken with Regulus yet? I know you two are not on the best of terms but you are two of my best students and..."

Margo, seeing Sirius tense at the mention of his bother and already having listened to _one _of Slughorn's rants, tipped back her glass and downed the rest of the clear, golden liquid quickly. "I need to go to pee," she declared after she had finished, refusing to let her cheeks redden at the statement.

Slughorn seemed to just now notice her, having been too focused on his favorite Gryffindor students. "Oh, well, it's just down the hall and to the right. Third door on the left."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm really bad with directions!" Margo said, hoping that her 'bending-the-truth' face didn't look as obvious as her 'flat-out-lying' face looked. "Black, Potter, would you mind showing me?"

"Not at all, Wilder. Sorry, Professor, wouldn't want a girl to get lost, right?" James had caught on quick and one of his trademark grins was beginning to stretch across his face.

The trio hurried for the door with all haste, Margo stumbling behind them rather gracelessly in her (borrowed and half a size too big) heels. "Oi! Slow down you two," Margo breathed, once they were out of earshot and safe in the corridor.

"_'I need to go pee'_?" James laughed, obviously mocking her while he slowed. "Worst excuse I think I've ever heard, Wilder! I was better at lying when I was a First Year!"

Margo instantly flushed red, glaring indignantly at the Gryffindor. "It worked, didn't it? And I wasn't lying - I am occasionally bad at directions and I really do...sort of need to go pee. Or I will eventually!" Margo actually hadn't meant to say 'I need to go pee' - she had meant to say something classy like 'I need to go to the lady's room' or something like that. 'Pee' had just kind of slipped out.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just yanking your wand. Thanks for the rescuing us from Slughorn, Wilder," James said, rolling his eyes with a smirk.

"You're welcome." Hopping awkwardly as she freed her feet from her high heels, Margo moved to join them where they stood just a few steps ahead of her. "Now, I suppose now that I've ruined your chance to fail at romancing Evans, you two have something better to do?"

Now standing next to Black and Potter without her heels, Margo could definitely note the height difference. While it made her slightly uncomfortable, she decided that, at least if anything happened she'd have two fantastic meat-shields. Margo snorted at the idea.

"Nah, not really." James shrugged, shooting a glance at Black in an unsuccessful attempt at being discrete. Sirius raised an eyebrow and gave a minute but definite shake of his head. James continued, deciding to ignore his friend's input. "Actually, we're planning on raiding the kitchens, if you're up for joining us."

"I have a feeling that you have more plotted than that, Potter, but yes, I'm totally up for going to the kitchens," Margo responded, a little miffed at his suggestion that she wasn't up for breaking the rules. She let it slide though, on account that they were actually inviting her to go somewhere with them. Surely this was just a repayment for saving them from Slughorn, right? Margo figured there was no harm in that.

"Plotted is a little harsh, Wilder," James whined, still grinning. "You make us sound like Slytherins."

Margo hummed not really knowing what to say but grinning lopsidedly at the pair. "To the kitchens?" She asked, changing the subject. She briefly considered inviting Greta to join them, but thought that might be overstepping it a bit. Also, Margo was relatively uncomfortable mixing, for lack of a better word, friend groups. She wasn't very good at juggling lots of conversations or people for that matter.

"To the kitchens!" James exclaimed, striding ahead of Sirius and Margo with a confident grin.

Peeking up at Sirius and noting his relatively displeased expression, Margo frowned but decided that fretting over whether Sirius Black approved of her or not was a battle not worth fighting. "Thanks for the other night, by the way - my arm feels loads better," she offered meekly, forgetting whether or not she had actually thanked him the other night, before scurrying off to join Potter who was now well ahead of them.

Black was quick to catch up to Potter and Wilder, his strides long due to the length of his legs, but gave little more than a nod of recognition to Margo for her confession of appreciation.

Margo, trying hard not to blush, gave a little nod in return. "You two doing anything over holiday?" She inquired as the trio rounded a turn.

James ran a hand through his perpetually messy dark brown hair before replying. Again he shared a glance with Sirius. "Not really - my mum usually insists on a big Christmas dinner, though," he admitted, chuckling a little.

Margo snorted. "My mum and I usually just go do something together. She's not big on cooking," she informed them, a little embarrassed by the comparison. She had forgotten that Potter was a Pureblood - he didn't really act too much like one. "There's usually a concert in my town over the holidays, so we often just go to that."

"You're mom sounds brilliant, Wilder. She's a muggle, right?" James asked, as if he was asking what she liked to read. He managed to make it sound completely natural.

Margo smiled, kind of glad that Potter was so unfussy about everything. "Yeah. She loves hearing about Hogwarts though. I even talked Professor Sprout into giving me one of her Moly seeds last year - mum was ecstatic about it."

"What? That's brilliant. Sprouts is an utter prude with her plants," James replied, frowning as if he was remembering something negative.

"I think she just knew you two were up to no good," Margo chuckled as they neared the kitchens. "What did you ask her for anyway?"

"Ah, just a Poisonous Tentacula," Potter replied nonchalantly, shrugging as he tickled the pear to enter the kitchens. "Nothing too big."

"Oh well, I can't even imagine _why_ she would turn you down over _that_," Margo began, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "You know, really, now that I think about it I don't even know why it's considered dangerous. Surely death isn't _that_ bad." Her tone was not lost on either of them, neither was the lopsided grin that slowly spread across her face.

The house elves were rather slow paced tonight, if their tireless work could ever be considered as such. An aroma of freshly-baked pie filled the air, one (apple pie, if Margo's nose was correct) drifting out of the oven and onto one of the tables. One of the house elves, one that Margo was vaguely familiar with, smiled at her as she entered. Snapping a mug of hot cocoa onto Margo's usual table, the house elf with the saucer-sized blue eyes readily went back to work.

"Thank you," Margo called after it (no offence meant - Margo simply could not manage to differentiate genders in regard to house elves.) before shuffling over to snatch up the mug. She took a greedy swig before addressing the two Marauders in her company. "...Erm... Do you guys want anything?"

Potter, running one of his big hands through his hair, laughed pleasantly. "Nah, Wilder. We're perfectly content to watch you enjoy delicious things all by yourself." He moved over to the large fridges and reached behind it, pulling out a clear jug filled with frighteningly red liquid.

Margo squinted, realizing what the liquid was after a few moments had passed. "Is that _firewhiskey_?" She asked, a little worriedly. Early in Fifth Year (before being banned from parties with any sort of alcohol involved - which was pretty much all of them) she had been invited to a party with firewhiskey. She didn't try it herself of course, as she wasn't particularly fond of getting in trouble and she valued her ability to think clearly, but Greta had and liked it well enough.

"Yeah," Potter confirmed, cradling the glass jug almost tenderly. "You're not going to rat on us are you, Wilder?"

Suddenly feeling a bit cowed, Margo shook her head. No way was she getting them in trouble - they'd have her head whether she saved them from Slughorn or not. "No worries, Potter."

"Good. Never know with Hufflepuffs!" Potter declared, taking a deep swig. He made a face once he pulled the bottle away from his lips, give a strong shake of his head.

"Hand it over, Prongs," Black spoke up, for what Margo believed to be the first time that night. The bottle traded hands and Sirius followed Potter in gulping the liquid. The lip of the bottle left his mouth and Margo was surprised at how little it affected him.

Margo inspected the alcohol, contemplating the pros and cons. There was a shocking lack of pros and an astonishing amount of cons but for some unexplained reason, Margo still wanted to try the firewhiskey. She'd had wine before - her mum not being particularly strict and liked it well enough. How different could this be? _Anyway_, Margo thought, trying to rationalize this like she did everything, _It's technically the holidays and exams are over. I think I can celebrate._

Removing her glasses, Margo looked at the blurry outline of Sirius Black. It was ridiculous how easy it was to talk to him when he was just a blob and not looking at her with those piercing grey eyes of his. "Mind passing it to me?"

Apparently noticing that she had taken her glasses off, Sirius put the bottle on the table and slid it in her direction. She could feel his expectant gaze as she gripped the bottle by its neck.

"You drink, Wilder? Didn't have you pegged as the sort," James admitted, pushing the join of his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He had moved to the seat across from Margo, propping himself on his elbows casually. Black had taken the seat beside Potter.

"No - but I figure now's as good a time as any to try it out," Margo said, hesitating slightly before taking a deep drink of the firewhiskey. It burned her throat as it went down, settling in her stomach as a potent heat. "...It's actually good."

Potter was the first to laugh, but Sirius followed quickly with a slightly diluted version of his typical bark-like laugh.

That night was the first time Margo Wilder got drunk.

* * *

**A/N:** A little bit of a shorter chapter but at least I managed a quick update! I hope all of the characters were _in_-character. Sorry Sirius is so quite for these chapters - he'll loosen up eventually :) But more importantly: Wow! Thank you guys for all of your wonderful reviews! It's always good to know what my readers are thinking. A special call out to these readers for leaving wonderful reviews last chapter: **verapaige01, Lottie** (Guest)**, **and two **Guest** reviewers! Thank you so much! It really means a lot to me and helps me to write faster. And I know you guys like faster updates. Please review and I hope to get the next chapter out in a week or two :)

See you soon!


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